


Long Distance

by Charon_the_Sabercat



Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: A very kinky kind of long range relationship, Long Distance Relationship, M/M, Originally a kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charon_the_Sabercat/pseuds/Charon_the_Sabercat
Summary: The first time the comm line rang in the house, Chase jumped. He had not been in the house for a full day, and already the comm line was ringing? Did he answer it? Was he allowed to speak for his husband yet?(Originally a kink meme fill: Chase and Heatwave are married through a matchmaking service, and they share an intimate connection even across the long distance.)





	1. Chapter 1

The first time the comm line rang in the house, Chase jumped. He had not been in the house for a full day, and already the comm line was ringing? Did he answer it? Was he allowed to speak for his husband yet?  
  
It rang again. Chase nipped at his lip, nervous and still slightly aching from the spike installation procedure. He supposed common courtesy demanded he answer the phone in this strange house- his house, now, legally. Their house? Could he speak for a mech that was not there? His valve squeezed against a stranger's spike. Mostly not there.   
  
It rang one more time, and he answered. "You have reached the residence of Rescue Unit Heatwave. He is unavailable for business now. May I take a message?"   
  
The voice on the other end chuckled, and the husky tone made Chase's valve squeeze again. _"I don't think Heatwave is as unavailable as you say."_  
  
Chase paused in thought. "... Sir, I can assure you tha-"   
  
_"I'm Heatwave."_  
  
Inelegantly, Chase responded, "Oh."   
  
The voice on the other end, the voice of his partner, continued. _"You're my new husband, I take it?"_  
  
"Indeed, sir. My designation is Chase."   
  
_"I have your information downloading into my personal files now,"_ said Heatwave. Chase sat down on a nearby chair, old and worn and made for a bot slightly bigger than him. Chase supposed this would be Heatwave's chair. He would have to purchase his own. He had no such furnishings from his old lodgings. _"Says you were a volunteer justice enforcer for 3 groons, and you still couldn't find a job?"_  
  
Chase nodded, although Heatwave couldn't see him. "I refused to join a military organization, nor would I affiliate myself with a workplace union. They are too heavily tied in with either extreme Autobot or Decepticon allegiances."   
  
_"I hear that. I'm kinda glad I got off-planet when I did."_ Heatwave spoke sympathetically. He was not condescending, judging, or unimpressed like many of the Autobot employees at the matchmaker's. He did not mock his decision to be married, either, as many of his Decepticon acquaintances had before his installation. _"The Autobots are in a bad place right now. I think it's best to stay out of that conflict until we have a Prime again."_  
  
"Are you against the war entirely?" Chase hoped not. He had put "will accept Neutral" on the application sheet, certainly, but it was not his first choice...  
  
Heatwave did not disappoint. _"I don't think so. The Decepticons are slaughtering mechs left and right. They need to be stopped. I just... don't know how. I'll listen to one Prime before thirteen councilmen anyday."_ He made a soft noise of distress. _"That makes sense, right?"_    
  
"I understand completely."   
  
_"Thank you."_ Heatwave gasped softly. _"I just felt you."_  
  
Chase blinked. "You did?"   
  
_"The matchmaker said there'd be a delay on sensory feedback on my spike. I just now felt y- oh."_ Suddenly all of Heatwave's bravado was gone. _"I-I'm sorry about... if I had known you hadn't before, I wou-"_  
  
Chase held up his hands in apology. "I do not hold it against you. I understood-" (He suddenly realized he was gesticulating to no one, and quickly dropped his hands back into his lap, blushing.) "-that I would lose my virginity in the process and had mentally steeled myself accordingly. I am grateful that you were my first... indirectly as it was."   
  
_"I do feel a lot better knowing that, thank you."_ Heatwave was panting, feeling the sensations of sex just as intensely as if he had actually been there. The thought made Chase blush even more. _"If it makes you feel any better, you can have at my port whenever I come home, get the whole virginity out of the way."_  
  
"I would think that you would rather be reattached to your spike first."   
  
_"For you? I'll keep waiting."_    
  
Chase's port began to lubricate around Heatwave's spike, and Chase had an idea. "Heatwave, I ask that you please send me a copy of your work schedule."   
  
_"Why?"_

"I must time my self-pleasuring so that they coincide with your off hours."   
  
Heatwave must have been having the same idea. He moaned through gritted teeth, _"So I don't wind up overloading at work, dear Primus, you're the best! I'll send it right after this call."_  
  
The implication made Chase pause, and while he paused, Heatwave finally overloaded. The sound was throaty, primal, and it made Chase uncomfortably wet with desire. His disappointment- that he couldn't overload without knowing the schedule and that Heatwave was about to sign off both- crept through to his vocalizer. "We cannot continue our discussion?"   
  
_"I only have so many off hours. I'm tired all the way down to my struts."_ Heatwave made a noise... a kissy noise. Chase returned the kissy noise over the comm link by kissing the back of his hand. _"I can't wait to meet you. You sound like the perfect husband."_  
  
Chase returned, "As do you."  
  
The call ended, and Chase left to inspect his new home, finally feeling welcome. 

Roughly 13 hours later, Chase felt Heatwave's spike overloading inside him, and began to adjust his self-pleasure cycle to match the delay.


	2. Chapter 2

A month into his marriage, and Chase still felt lonely. He was comfortable, at least, but he was still lonely. His new accomdati- his new home was well-furnished, but located in an area of Cybertron he was unfamiliar with. He had been out exploring a few times, but felt too self-conscious to join any of the local leisure clubs. Out of the three he had found, two existed for the explicit purpose of finding potential marriage partners. The other one was for couples to attend simultaneously. Chase, stranded in the middle, stayed out of both.  
  
He had a small bit of reprieve in talking to Heatwave every night. None of their long-distance couplings had been as intense as the first (due to both partners being inexperienced with the equipment they were left access to respectively), but their conversations were fulfilling and beneficial for both of their mental health. Chase even became familiar with Heatwave's team mates, Blades and Boulder, who would send various well-wishes over the comm line if they were ever in proximity.   
  
"I still feel lonely."   
  
_"It's called 'shell hunger',"_ Heatwave explained. _"They tell you all about it whenever you take on long-term shifts like I do. It's just your body craving another Cybertronian's touch."_  
  
Chase patted his chest, as if testing out Heatwave's explanation himself. "I experienced nothing like this in my lifetime before."   
  
_"It's a post-virginity thing, for the most part. Protoforms have it whenever they first come online."_  
  
Suddenly the immediate bath Chase received when he came into the world made perfect sense. He found his only response to the revelation was, "Ooooh."   
  
Heatwave seemed pleased with Chase's response. _"The bath, right? I thought the same thing!"_  
  
Somewhere in the background, Blades began to reminesce out loud about his first bath. He didn't seem to be addressing either of the two, so Chase kept speaking. "This doesn't solve my immediate problem, though."   
  
Heatwave sighed, the heavy gust of air hissing in the comm line. _"I don't know how to help. Out here, they either make us all sleep in the same bed or put us in deep stasis until we get to wherever we're going."_  
  
Heatwave sighed again. Chase ached for Heatwave's presence, something other than the spike locked inside him. He wanted arms around him, a head on his shoulder... at this point, he would even be happy to sit in the other's lap. A thought struck him, and Chase blushed, ashamed of himself; he didn't even know what Heatwave looked like. Could he sit in the other's lap without crushing him? How had he gone so long without thinking about it?  
  
"Heatwave, how tall are you?"   
  
There was a significant delay in response time.   
  
_"Uh..."_  
  
At least the sound said "I am confused" rather than "I am lieing."  
  
_"I dunno... 6 hand'o'primes?"_ The "Hand of Prime" was a very colloquial term of measurement, based on an outdated legend, but Chase could still get a grip on Heatwave's height.   
  
"You are just a bit taller than I am." Chase gulped, stroking his neck nervously. "If we were to embrace, I could put my head upon your shoulder."   
  
_"... yeah? And- OH. Oh."_ Heatwave just barely laughed. _"You could. I probably'd do the same thing."_  
  
"You could do other things, as well," suggested Chase. "I would be fond of a small kiss, as well."   
  
Heatwave was smirking, Chase just knew it. _"I could grab your aft, too, you'd probably like that."_  
  
Somewhere in the background, Blades gasped _"Oh my!"_  
  
Soon, all of the Rescue Bots were laughing. It started with Heatwave, then Boulder (somewhere), Blades, and finally Chase simply because he wanted to be included. Even through his embarrassed blush, he laughed. Most of him hated the idea of even that small, private part of him being exposed to someone on the other end of a comm line.   
  
The rest of him was so happy that someone, anyone, knew that he and Heatwave were connected.  
  
_"Look at us!"_ Heatwave remarked in good humor. _"So pathetic we can't even do comm sex. We can't even comm-make-out!"_  
  
Chase said, "We can comm-say-'I love you' to substitute."   
  
Heatwave said, _"Comm 'I love you'."_  
  
Chase answered, "Comm 'I love you too'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to note: thinking up titles for these things years after the fact is hard!!!


	3. Chapter 3

He gathered every pillow in the house and bunched them all around him on the bed. He dug around in cabinets looking for anything with a distinctive smell, wax or grease or soap, and covered/greased/washed himself with it. He turned off the lights, locked the doors, turned off the comm link for only a moment.

  
Because Heatwave's spike was online, pressurized, sparking, throbbing inside him, and Chase was not missing the opportunity to remember that he had a husband.  
  
He threw himself onto the bed, face-first in a mound of softness (Heatwave, but Heatwave wouldn't be this soft, would move with him, would hold him). He pulled desperately at his spike (Heatwave would take him through his valve, he'd know exactly where to hit, would know every sensitive spot). He wailed into the pillows (Heatwave would kiss him, keep him silent, or maybe he would be the one causing those noises)...  
  
He nearly screamed in frustration when the door chimed.   
  
Etiquette demanded that he answer. Chase spent exactly 14 seconds willing his spike to receed, and- uncharacteristically, he thought in a detached way- thumped his head against the wall in frustration. Not even a moment's peace to masturbate. Figures. His life. _Thunk._  
  
Chase opened the door to a red mech. A firefighter model, just a bit taller than him. Chase squared up his shoulders. His port hurt. "Sir, if you're looking for Heatwave, I'm afraid he's unavailable. Please leave."  
  
The red mech laughed, deep and powerful, yet quiet. "I don't think Heatwave is as unavailable as you say."   
  
There might have been a word on Chase's tongue. Maybe. It fell away at the thought of Heatwave, his husband, that voice on his doorstep here and real and oh, that's why his spike was active and he's so handsome all at once. All of his joints locked, and his optics automatically tuned to their highest sensitivity, taking in every aspect of Heatwave.  
  
Chase and Heatwave spent exactly 2 seconds expecting the other to initiate.   
  
They dove for each other, Heatwave pushing him back into the doorway by sheer weight. At some point they fell onto the floor, but Chase didn't notice, he was too busy kissing his husband finally, FINALLY after three months of him being out in the who knows where and Heatwave was-   
  
Heatwave was giggling. "Can't even make it to the bed?"   
  
Chase was rather ingloriously sprawled across the floor at the moment, and he was bearing the brunt of Heatwave's weight. The floor and the weight were such a sharp contrast to that cold, empty bed that the mere thought of getting up made the enforcer sick to his tanks. Chase pulled Heatwave back down on him, gripping his mate's head and lower back as tight as he could. "Bed later."   
  
"I agree," Heatwave stated. "First thing's first. Honeymoon."  
  
Chase wasn't a romantic. He really wasn't. The idea still made him blush and tingle all over like a female half his age. "Agreed."   
  
The embrace resumed. Chase clung to his husband with every ounce of his strength, wanting to explore the body but fearing he would loose it if he let go. Heatwave's hands were everywhere, learning Chase's face, his back, his legs, his belly. Their optics stayed online, each surveying the other, but they rarely met. Whenever they did, a rolling wave of energy seemed to move through either of the bots, making them both blush and laugh awkwardly and just move on to the next body part. Heatwave eventually settled on Chase's shoulder, offlining his optics and nibbling on Chase's offered neck.

For the first time in three months, Chase's port cover opened, and the enforcer felt a jolt of unbridled horror shoot through his spinal struts. That part of him, unused but hardly forgotten, was suddenly so cold and exposed. Without thinking, he pulled back. His valve squeezed, and the spike inside him left, and his connection with Heatwave was gone. The warm body around him seemed so far away. He was incomplete! He was empty!   
  
Just as quickly, Heatwave's spike reattached to its owner with a magnetic hum and a sharp click, and Heatwave was inside him again.   
  
It was an entirely different dance now. Heatwave moved with intent, grinding against Chase's body in tight circles, gripping his shoulders for leverage and his head for cushioning. Chase's hands wandered lower, settling just above Heatwave's aft to track the rolling of his hips. His legs seemed to move on their own, not knowing whether to spread or clench or hook around Heatwave's back, cycling through every option trying to find which one felt best and only finding that each posture felt better than the last. The rest of him fell limply against the floor.   
  
And there were optics on him again, and he couldn't look away. Heatwave's optics burned into him, and he did feel uncomfortably aware of himself, but this was Heatwave. This wasn't Heatwave over the comm link, or Heatwave's pillows on top of Heatwave's preferred brand of soap. This was his actual husband, the mech he had loved from the first conversation they had ever had... and he had a beautiful, kinked smile. Intense optics, Rescue Bot yellow. A strong jaw. A gorgeous voice.   
  
His.   
  
Heatwave kissed his nose, and Chase bowed back in a processor-stalling overload. Everything right in the world rushed out from between his legs (even though a few tension cables tore in the process), and through it all, Heatwave held him, moved with him, knew exactly each sensitive spot to hit, caused all his little happy noises, and stayed inside him while his systems reset.   
  
When he came online, he was sprawled on top of Heatwave's chest. They were still on the floor. They were still hot and ticking. Heatwave was still inside him.   
  
"It'll be weird..." Heatwave began.  
  
"To be empty again, yes," finished Chase. He began to replay the last few minutes in his head, organizing his thoughts, and... oh, goodness, had he really been that sentimental? His head fell forward into the crook of Heatwave's shoulder. He had. Primus, he had turned into a character in a romance novella.  
  
Heatwave patted his back. When he looked up, Heatwave was smiling at him, tears in his optics. They hugged on the floor, resigning themselves into being sappy romantics, if only for today. After all, the honeymoon had just begun, and they had three months of face time to make up for.

**Author's Note:**

> Why there's a delay on their sex hardware, but not on their comm signal, I have no idea. 
> 
> This is an oooold kink meme fill, but another much-loved favorite that I thought I'd post.


End file.
